When You're Responsible
by A Girl Called Tennessee
Summary: When the months spent and Fond l'étang begin to wear on Morhange and he takes drasic measures to see his mother, how will others including Pépinot, Mathieu, and more react when he is taken from Fond L'étang? The Chorus Les Choristes.
1. Part one: Morhange, Chapter one: Missing

Part one: Morhange

Chapter one: Missing

Narrated by Clément Mathieu

It was unusually bright that morning as the classes started; the entire day seemed on the right track. The students were even a bit happier than I had ever seen them. Perhaps it was the day, or perhaps it was the shorter classes, I wasn't sure, but they all paid more attention during choir than usual. Pépinot was bouncing on his hands while sitting on my desk as the others sang, and even he looked more in tempo with the music, that was not normal for him, but he seemed to be enjoying himself. The choir was singing with power, and swaying with the beat.

Morhange handled his solos with great care, instead of expecting them to come easily like he usually did. Granted he always sang them very well, even when he was tired or upset, but today it was if he was singing for someone he was either in love with, or afraid of. It was amazing how he could just sing without thinking, like he was the only person in the world it came easily to.

After choir I had told them all to go and sit in their seats until the bell rang, it was only about ten minutes away, and they were very well behaved. Talking to one another in soft voices, without throwing things or screaming at each other. Pépinot sat on the floor near my desk for a very long time, even when I told him he could go to his seat, he shook his head and continued folding the paper airplane that Morhange had thrown in the trash yesterday.

I had watched him wait until all the other students had left the class and then get up from his desk and take the plane from the bin before bidding me a good day and leaving. I peered over my desk to look at him unfold the wings, stare at the creases and then fold it back up, then he would unfold the tail and examine it just like he had done to the wings, and on it went.

Of course I wasn't the only one who noticed the smallest boy play with his new and only toy. Morhange, who didn't speak much anyway, was ignoring those who tapped him on the shoulder; instead he was watching the child with great compassion in his eyes. There was something that gave him away though, no matter how much of a stern look he kept on his face there was a definite softness about it. The boy didn't show any sort affection towards anyone, that's mostly why I felt this was odd on his part. However at the same time their was a sadness in about his body language that told me he was going to do something about what he was feeling. A feeling of pity, or sorrow, obviously strong enough to bleed through his stern facile features, he was going to try to do something; I just never thought I would be helping him.

The bells rang and everyone rushed for the door like usual, with Pépinot throwing his airplane up twice before racing to catch up with all the others. It was also my lunch hour so after straitening the papers on my desk I left down the hall to the cafeteria. The table I sat at normally was surrounded by my colleagues leaving almost no space, but I managed to find room. They always seemed to talk about nothing in particular, which always seemed to bother me, but what bothered me even more than that was when they talked about how awful the children behaved, or about their tragic histories like they were a joke.

A few things I noticed that lunch were Pépinot giving the students sitting next to him a marble in exchange for his food like always, Corbin taking a bite of his meal and then playing a few notes on his harmonica, but Morhange, who was often pushing the food-like substance around on his plate with his head in his hands, today was eating as quickly as he possibly could while keeping his nose inches away from the dish, without chewing each mouthful in the slightest, and again ignoring everyone who wanted to talk.

I was foolishly intrigued by these strange actions, so excused myself as he got up from his table and followed him out of the cafeteria, his young strides carrying him twice as fast as my own. I lost him around the entrances to the dormitories, but I could still hear his footsteps beat into the emptiness of silence. I sighed and turned to go back when I heard the clanking of a chain and the rattling of bars, then there was a quiet groan and a tiny clicking sound began. The groan I recognized as his voice, he didn't speak often, but when he did you would be able to recognize it against anyone's. But what was he doing with the chain and lock? He wasn't the escaping type, I just couldn't imagine it.

As I rounded the corner with soft footsteps to keep him from hearing me, I found him facing the bars that lead outside; I couldn't see what he was doing from where I was standing, but he was defiantly doing something with the lock.

"Morhange," I called; he spun on his heels and looked me strait in the face with a look classic for his personality, serious, threatening, slightly devious, this was a look he gave to say, 'I didn't do anything, leave me alone, now'.

"What are you doing?" I continued glancing at the lock, which still had a strip of scrap metal jammed inside it, "Trying to run away?"

"No," he replied flatly, "I want some fresh air, that's all."

"You know the courtyard is open, right?" I asked in an almost taunting way, trying to get him to talk.

"I don't want to go out there," he said shortly, it was defiantly a tough job getting him to say more than a few words.

"Why? It's not good enough?"

"No, I want to go out here."

"Who are you going to see?" I asked next, already knowing the answer. He had disappeared like this once before right after Mordain had attacked him while he was doing chores. He showed up about two hours later, no one had ever known where he had gone, but I think I had a pretty good idea. His mother worked a few miles away, and I often wondered if he had gone to see her. He never said he liked her, and he also never acted relieved or happy when she showed up to see him, but then again he had never said he disliked her while meaning it. He just didn't trust her was all.

"No one," he replied.

I raised an eyebrow and walked past him to the gate, "Well," I said pulling the metal from the lock and putting my key in, "When you get there tells her I said hello."

Morhange blinked hard and opened his mouth speechlessly saying thank you, then he slipped out and through the second door into the sunlight.

I glanced at my watch, five after noon, so I predicted he'd be back around quarter after two.

I didn't do much for the next hour, since one of the other teachers was sick due to stress, they were free until one thirty, and I just knew I would end up making up a story of why Morhange was present for the first forty-five minutes of his next class. But no one asked or seemed to care; it was like I was the only one who actually took any form of interest in the lives of these unfortunate children.

At one the heavens opened and it began to pour, thunder, and lightening, all the while the temperature dropping. He had walked back once in the rain, so there wasn't a doubt in my mind he could do it again, but when two thirty rolled around and he still hadn't showed up I began to worry.

If something had happened to him, I was responsible for him. Not only that, but how would I explain it to the headmaster… or his mother? As beautiful and understanding as she was, her son was her highest priority. He was thieving, cunning, and in most cases a liar, but she loved him more than anything in the world, she only wanted the best for him.

Classes ended at three, it was then, when no one had seen him for quite sometime, that I began to wonder whether I should tell someone. Even Pépinot took notice, asking me where the singing boy had gone to. When I told him I wasn't sure, he bit his lip as if he was thinking, and walked back into the dormitories. I decided I'd wait until three thirty to tell anyone.

I found myself pulling on my coat and hat when it was beginning to get dark, and as I ran down the hall I noticed Pépinot following me.

"Go have your dinner, I'll be back in a little while," I told him.

"Can't I come?" he asked, that's when I noticed he was wearing a large pair of rubber boots that obviously weren't his.

"Take those off and go have dinner."

"But I ran out of marbles…"

"Sit with the teachers," I said quickly while opening the door.

"Really?" he smiled.

"Yeah, go ahead."

He stepped out of the boots and ran, in his hole filled socks, back toward the cafeteria as I stepped into the cold to find Morhange.


	2. Part one: Morhange, Chapter two: Found

Part one: Morhange

Chapter two: Found and Returned

I walked out the front door and down the long cold walkway that lead to the road. My shoes sloshed in the mud, and my breath froze in front of my face, where had the once beautiful day gone to? It was like the seasons were working backward, the whole scenery was freezing before my eyes, and more than that, it was the fact that Morhange had been out in this for far too long. Maybe if he did go to see his mother she had maybe… maybe, I didn't know, she would have brought him back if she did find him. What if he had run away? It was true he was completely unhappy here, but he wasn't stupid. He'd know that nothing good would come of running away; he'd know he had nowhere to go. Lost? No, he was defiantly street-smart. Hurt? Possible, but it wasn't likely.

I breathed into my hands and rubbed them together after walking about a mile to the end of the road, near the town line and looked at the water stained buildings and empty streets. The umbrellas of the many coffee shops were all closed and pulled to the sides of the buildings along with their glass table counterparts.

I walked the empty streets for quite some time, maybe almost an hour, until the street lamps were lit and I was shivering. There was nothing more I could do, when I got back I'd tell Rachin and with any luck the police would be able to find him by tomorrow. It still worried me greatly that he had not been found, and his mother, his mother crossed my thoughts again, what would his mother be told? The poor child, I couldn't imagine him out here for so long, his coat had been left in the dorm, if only I knew that this would have happened.

I walked around the corner to start the long trip back to the school when I saw someone, no older than fourteen, slouched over on steps of a restaurant I recognized as the work place of Morhange's mother; however the restaurant had been closed some hours ago. I turned my flashlight on the shape, and found the person to have a pair of bright green eyes and a strongly set jaw, it was Morhange.

I thought he might have been close to death the way he was shaking, violent chills racking his entire body, his clothes were drenched, and his hair was so wet it was flattened against his head. He was soaked to the bone, and I could do nothing more than wonder why he had stayed in the rain for this long.

"What are you doing?!" I shouted racing over to him, he didn't respond, "Morhange! What's wrong, answer me!"

"She kissed him," he said under his breath without looking up at me.

I had never seen him like this before; he had always been a troubled child, but now he didn't just look troubled, he looked broken.

"Get up, we're going back, you're going to die out here," I said pulling him upright, but he sat right back down the moment I took my grip off his arm. "Get up!"

"She kissed him," he said again, I found out later that he was talking about his mother. She had been dating a man from Lyon, and for whatever reason he disapproved of this. It could have been that he was untrusting, or it could have been that he didn't want to be hurt again by another man his mother was dating. I had told him about a week after I had found out, his mother's idea to let him wait before breaking the news. This meant he had known for about a day or two, I was surprised it took him so long to react to this shock, but apparently he had seen them.

"Are you alright?" I asked slowly.

He didn't answer.

"Morhange…?"

This time he looked up at me with a fear filled and heartbroken look in his eyes, then he looked at his feet and the violent chills shook his thin body once more.

"Get up, we're going back, you're going to get sick."

"I don't care," he trembled.

"Get up!" I shouted taking him by the collar and jerking him up.

"Let go of me!" he said trying to sound threatening, but the words broken by shudders only tightened my hold on him.

Too weak to fight back, he walked by my side for quite some way, until the town had faded into the background and we were walking along a dark, dirt path lined with tall pine trees, while it was still raining. Although I kept my hand on his collar he didn't try and get away or halt until we got halfway up the walk and he stopped abruptly. We still had another mile to go, he couldn't stop now.

"Come on," I told him shortly, pulling him forward.

"… I'm cold…" he answered. This was not something he would normally say, he never revealed anything about the way he felt, even if it was physical, something wasn't right.

"Keep walking," I said in an almost pleading way.

Morhange shook his head, "I can't…. I hurt."

I pulled the coat off and handed it to him, but he just held it between his shaking hands.

"Put it on," I ordered, he didn't move. "Put it on!"

His eyes seemed far away as I took the coat from him and tied it around his shoulders to keep him even the slightest bit warm.

"Move," I told him.

This carried him to all the way to the door, and as we entered we surrounded instantaneously by students asking Morhange where he had been for the last six hours. He didn't seem able to answer them; this just made them ask more while prodding his shoulders and back.

"Go back to the cafeteria!" I told them, pulling Morhange from the scene and up the stairs. Most did as told, but a few kept following him, this was until I turned on the steps and pointed backwards while threatening send them to the headmaster, this made the rest scurry off.

I took the cold and tired boy up to the dormitories where I untied my coat from his shoulders, he, standing there like a limp ragdoll had no objections, and when I told him to get dressed for bed after giving him a towel to dry his hair. He did that as soon as ordered, although it took him some time to put his pajamas on properly due to his frozen fingers and shaking hands. Then I walked to my own room and to my bed, with him standing in the hall. I pulled back the sheets; he slunk into the room, crawled into the bed, and curled up into a tight ball as I pulled the sheets back over him. The blankets shook as he did; even the metal frame of the bed was vibrating. He looked so ailing and remorseful, but there was nothing I could do.

I felt so sorry for him, this was my fault after all, I should have never let him out, but where would that leave me in his trust book. It took more than time for these children to trust you, and Morhange had only just begun to see me as someone he could believe in. I had let him down.

I walked out of my room and closed the curtain to block the room that I would not be sleeping in tonight.

An hour later the dormitory was filled with students asking me about choir practice for that night, and occasionally asking where Morhange had gone to. Of course the children weren't allowed into my room, although Morhange had broken in once and stolen my music, so this kept them all away from him.

After everyone had gotten into bed Pépinot asked me if I had found the singing boy. I told him to go to sleep, but he refused to do any sleeping until I told him. I sighed and pulled back the curtain on the window of my room slightly so he could see Morhange's shape under the sheets.

"Is he okay?" Pépinot asked, talking with the side of his mouth like he did when upset, with his face pressed against the glass.

"He's fine, just give him some time to rest and he'll be all right," I replied.

Pépinot then looked worried as he asked, "Where are you going to sleep?"

I shrugged and said, "The chair."

"Do you want my bed? I could sleep on the floor."

"No Pépinot, go to sleep."

He nodded and pulled his blanket over his head.


	3. Part one: Morhange, Chapter three: Cards

Part one: Morhange

Chapter three: Help and Cards

I awoke early the next morning and, with the exception of a stiff neck and back, I felt just fine for sleeping on an old, wooden chair. The students were to go out for their morning run in a half hour, so I decided to wake them now.

"Everyone up!" I shouted clapping my hands, and everyone groaned and rolled over pulled their pillows so their ears were covered. "Come on get up!"

After a few minutes of persuasion they all got up and moved slowly to the showers, with Pépinot bringing up the rear, his stuffed bear held tightly under his arm. Once he had gone I shut the door and walked into my room.

Morhange's shape was still and unmoving with the occasional shiver; I couldn't see his face since he was turned away from me and curled up by the wall nearest the radiator. I strolled in casually, pulled a chair from the corner, and placed it near the bed.

"Morhange?" I whispered tapping him on the shoulder.

He stirred and turned on his side, craning his neck to look at me. At least he had responded, but his skin was pale and his eyes were glassy. Morhange coughed and nodded, like saying, 'what?' he was looking a little better than yesterday, granted, but wreck was all over his face, and he was so short of breath he might of well have passed out.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He shrugged and coughed again, then began to tremble and rolled back over so he was inches away from the heat escaping the radiator. The room was sweltering, but still he was depending on the warmth of the stove. He needed to go to the infirmary, but he'd never agree to it of course, it wasn't in his nature. He never wanted help, even if he needed it.

"… I'm going to take you to the infirmary," I said flatly.

His eyes were suddenly filled with detest, and he shook his head, he refused to go anywhere for his own good.

"I'm taking you to the infirmary," I replied sternly, "Now get up." He didn't move. "Up!"

Morhange kicked the blanket off at this strict order, and then sat a moment like that one thing had tired him out. Then he set his bare feet on the ground and went to stand up, but couldn't find enough strength, his eyes said it all.

"Just lie down," I sighed putting a hand up and looking at my feet instead of Morhange, "I'll be back."

As I left down to the infirmary I noticed that it was still raining from last night, and some of the spots in the roof were leaking, making it hard to just walk through the halls without getting wet. I found old Maxence trying to convince a child that he wasn't sick, and to go back to class, I managed to get his attention when I told him a student was very ill. When he asked which one it was as we went up to the dormitories and I told him Morhange, he seemed shocked.

"I've only seen that boy in my infirmary once, two years ago, when he came to pick up a file for his teacher," Maxence said with a surprised look on his face.

"Well, I'm not sure if you'll even get him there this time, he does want to go anywhere," I replied, "He's in my bed now, I let him sleep there last night. It's the rain that did it to him."

"Rain? How long was he in it?"

I bit my lip, "About six hours."

"How'd he get out?"

I nodded slightly to indicate it was my doing, but he didn't seem to blame me, he just continued with questions about how Morhange was.

When we reached the room we saw that Morhange had taken the blanket from the end of the bed and thrown it over the radiator so he could sleep against it without burning his skin.

"Morhange!" I said flipping him back and pulling the blanket off the stove, "Do you know how easily that could catch fire?"

He set his jaw in anger and snatched the warm blanket from my hands, then pulled it over his head and groaned hoarsely.

I stepped out into the hallway, leaving him alone with old Maxence while I got ready to take my class, starting in about an hour and a half. There was a stack of papers I had not yet corrected; there was also a sheet of choir music I had been meaning to finish, truthfully it was almost completed, but I just needed to fix Morhange's solo to fit his voice more. But obviously he wouldn't be coming to choir practice today, and if he did there wasn't a chance he was going to do any singing.

It didn't take long for Maxence to emerge, but long enough for me to finish Morhange's solo. A troubled look was on his face, and I could tell the news would not be good, I planned for the worst, but hoped for the best.

"I think we should call a doctor," he said quietly.

"… T-that bad?" I asked in the same quiet tone.

Maxence nodded, "He has no voice, and he's burning with a fever."

"Well what does he have?"

"I'm leaning towards pneumonia, but it could be worse… or better, who knows?" he added with a smile which wasn't very convincing.

After he had gone to call a doctor, I walked back into my room, Morhange was bundled tightly in a few more blankets Maxence had brought in, and he was staring at the ceiling, with nothing in his eyes. He looked so broken, and not because he was hurting on the outside, I could tell that whatever was hurting himself on the inside was tearing him to shreds. I knew that trying to get him to talk would only lead to being ignored, so I pulled up a chair and waited for him to talk to me. It took a while, but after some time of sitting just watching him, he finally spoke in a voice so hoarse I could barely tell what he was saying.

"She kissed him," he said still staring upwards.

"Your mother?"

He nodded.

"She kissed the man from Lyon?"

He nodded again.

I could say I felt the same way he did, probably not nearly as strong as he, but I did feel slightly broken hearted. And there I was thinking I actually had a chance with the woman.

"Morhange," I said finally, "She only wants what's best for you, and I know that for a fact. Don't give up on her; she never gave up on you."

He understood what I was telling him, he might not have been ready to accept it, but he believed it.

"Get some rest," I smiled pouring him a glass of water and walking out of the room to finish my papers.

A few minutes after Morhange had fallen asleep both of Rachin's daughters showed up, the oldest, sixteen, carrying a small potted flower with a tag that said Morhange on it. Both of the girls were beautiful young women whom most of the boys, Morhange included, were constantly trying to impress, at sometimes it was even comical to watch.

"Good morning, sir," smiled the younger one, fourteen, "We heard one of the boys wasn't feeling well."

"Uh, yes, it's Morhange," I answered pointing to my room.

"Is this a bad time?" the older one asked lowering her voice.

"I can give it to him, he's sleeping."

There was a muffled sound from my room and I could hear Morhange moving around.

"I guess you can go in then," I said opening the curtain slightly, but I could see him waving his hands frantically as he pulled open my draw and took out one of my button down shirts. "Actually, can you wait just a minute?" I asked as Morhange pulled off his pajama shirt and buttoned up the oversized shirt. It didn't look very natural for him to be sitting in bed, pail faced, sickly, and wearing a shirt that had to be six sizes too big for him; he noticed this too, so pulled it off and reached for his pajama shirt, his arm length just a few inches to short to grab it. He bit his lip and sank down under the blankets so only his head was visible, and then he looked at me like saying 'just barely ready.'

"Go ahead in," I told them with a nod. They grinned and they walked through the curtain. Morhange smiled at them and then looked over at me like trying to tell me to leave.

I rolled my eyes and left, however I kept the curtain open.

Both girls were wrapped around his finger so tightly you couldn't pry them off with a crowbar. They talked to him, asking only yes or no questions, and got him water and more sheets, by the time a half hour had passed I felt as if Morhange never wanted to get better. After that time they gave the plant a bit of water, kissed him on the top of the head with a smile, and said good bye.

Once they had gone Morhange looked around the corner at me, grinned, and nodded. I sighed with a smile shaking my head, the kid new how to play. He looked proud of himself, but at the same time just about ready to pass out due to lack of rest.

An hour later I had just finished stuffing my corrected work into my briefcase and was rushing to get down to my class before the students destroyed it. By this time Morhange had been asleep for almost a half hour, and again, had moved across the bed to the radiator, so I decided not to bother him and left for class.

Upon my arrival all the students rushed for their seats and folded their hands, and Pépinot, who had been sitting when I walked in, had slid very far down in his seat, and was not meeting my eyes.

"Good morning," I said quickly, walking up to my desk and taking out the role call sheet.

I had no more than opened my mouth to start the list, when Corbin shouted from the back, "Is Morhange really dying?"

All the other students nodded and leaned forward in their seats to hear my answer. Pépinot winched and looked down pretending to examine the desk.

"No, he's not dying, he's fine," I answered with a sideways glance at the guilty child.

"Then where is he-?" Corbin asked.

"Line up," I said to change topics. No one moved, all looking very curious. "Line up!"

"Don't we have a right to know?"

"You have no right on the subject, now line up!"

"Can we at least go see him… we could make a card," suggested one of the boys in the second row.

"…." It wasn't a completely bad idea, and without our soloist we had nothing new to go over, still…. "If you want to sing raise your hand," I finally said. I took a look around at the class, then sighed and said, "Go get some paper."

I had known for quite some time now that they would do what they were told if asked like you were a friend, so it was no surprise that they all began writing and drawing after hunting through cabinets to find supplies. As I walked around I corrected about five spelling mistakes of Morhange's name alone, and words like 'better,' I had to write on the board after getting tired of correcting it on ever paper. But while most were still decorating the front of their cards, Pépinot was now writing his fifth out and covering it in balloon shapes.

Just as I walked over to him he slammed the finished copy down on his desk and said, "I need to use the bathroom," then ran out of the room.

"Pépinot!" I called running out the door and catching him by the arm, "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere sir," he replied, talking with the side of his mouth, "Just to the water closets."

"Pépinot, why did you tell them about Morhange?"

"I don't know sir."

"Surely you had some reason."

"… I wanted to make him something, but no one else would let me in their class."

As manipulative as this was, I couldn't deny that he, like Morhange, was exceptionally bright for his age. Exaggerating the situation might have just been what his age did, but it also ensured that the class would become intrigued and involved.

"… Very well, hurry back," I said letting him pass and run down the hall.

At the end of the class I collected all of the papers, Pépinot contributing about eleven.


	4. Part one: Morhange, Chapter four: Visit

Part one: Morhange

Chapter four: Visit

I hung my jacket on the coat rack by the door and walked in looking quickly in at my room and had to do a double take. There was something wrong, something missing. Everything in the room was neat and tidy, even the bed was made, with its sheets pulled tightly over the sides while the pillows were propped up at the head. But that was just it, Morhange was gone.

My heart skipped a beat as I stepped into the room and glanced from corner to corner, nothing was there, and even the little flower that the girls had brought was gone. My feet hesitated for a moment and then took of down the stairs and around the corner to Rachin's office.

Rachin looked up from his paperwork with a startled appearance at the sudden bursting open of the door.

"Mister Headmaster," I panted.

"What?" he barked, "I'm very busy."

"M-Morhange… he was in my room, h-he's not there. Where did he go?" I gasped.

"You know you're annoying me?" he said returning to his papers. I didn't find this relevant, what had I done wrong? I was only worried about my students.

"What? Where did he go?"

"Maxence called a doctor, they came and took him to the hospital around fifteen minutes ago," he said waving his hand at me.

I swallowed hard and walked towards the door, but I found upon opening it that someone else was trying to get in. She had brown, curly, shoulder length hair, and bright green eyes that matched her son's.

"Violette," I gasped struggling for breath.

"Where is my son?" she asked quickly.

"Pierre?" I said trying to stall long enough to think of a valid answer.

"Yes, I only child I have!" she was worried and upset, her eyes said it all, the same as Morhange.

"I was just going to find him."

"What do you mean?"

I bit my lip, "You're probably busy, but I can tell him you stopped by-"

"I want to see my son!" she shouted so loudly that the halls echoed.

"He's not here," I said quickly as a sudden drumming of small footsteps on the stairs leading down from the dormitories began and Pépinot raced around the corner and into my arms, tears ran down his cheeks.

"They told me he died!" he wept, "And then told me I was being a baby and t-then took my bear, a-a-and threw it into your room! Make them give it back! Make them give it back!"

"Hold on, what?" I said in an overwhelmed way.

"Where is my son?!" yelled Violette.

"Make them give it back!" cried Pépinot.

"Okay, Quiet!" I screamed over top of both, "Pierre is in the hospital, and I will get your bear back."

"What? Why?" she asked as I picked Pépinot up.

"He caught pneumonia; I was just going to go see him."

"Can I come with you?" Pépinot asked with a toothy grin while wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Eh… fine, but you stay need to stay quiet."

"Come on," said Violette, "the car's out front."

As we walked out into the sun drying the mud and the wet pavement, it suddenly dawned on me that she had always taken the bus to and from here; I had never even seen her in a car before. That's when I noticed a man in the front seat of the vehicle; he looked as though he was a tall and his strong facial features did make him look rather hansom, he was any girls dream. Although while he was hansom, there was a definite irritable look on his face that looked like it might be there very often, and his hands sat on the wheel like he was just about ready to floor it and drive away.

Violette ran over and knocked on the window, looked up and unlocked the doors and then glanced over at Pépinot and I.

Violette opened the door and said, "Clément Mathieu, and eh…."

"Pépinot," I nodded.

"Right, Pépinot; they're coming with us."

"Wait, where are we going?" he asked starting the car up.

"Hospital," she said flatly.

"The kid's at the hospital?"

"Yeah, go!"

Maybe Violette was too nervous to recognize the tone of his voice, or maybe she was just ignoring it, but there was defiantly an aggravated quality in his speech.

The scenery flew by at a million miles an hour, the road, lined with potholes, made the car do more than its fair share of bouncing. Pépinot was clinging tightly to the material of the seats while springing up and down with a terrified look on his face. As we approached the tall hospital building I noticed Violette's hand on the car handle ready to jump out, and she did just that as the car pulled to a stop. However the small child next to me was trembling uncontrollably and his face was white as a sheet.

"Come on," I said, lifting him from the seat and setting his feet on the ground.

"Hey," the man called after me, "Just tell her I'm waiting out here," he said leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes.

I suddenly got a feeling of strong dislike for this man, and I didn't even know his name.

"Not a problem," I said slamming the door and leading Pépinot away.

The boy, whose color had now returned, was starring up at the buildings with awe and longing.

"What's up there?" he asked as we entered the hospital.

"Some are where people work, and others are for people who are sick," I replied, "Pierre Morhange?" I asked the woman at the front desk, and she pointed to the stairwell.

"Third floor."

"Thank you," I smiled taking Pépinot's hand and walking upward.

"Is the singing boy sick?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Is he here?"

"Yes."

"Will he get better?" he asked skipping steps trying to keep up with me.

"Don't worry, he'll be fine," I replied as we reached the third floor and turned the corner. I could see Violette hanging over Morhange, who was lying in a bed and looking very chocked and awkward in his mother's arms, desperately trying to push her away.

"Mom, stop, you're hurting me," he muttered.

She stood up, but only enough to keep her hand on her son's arm. He looked tired and upset, like he just wanted to go to sleep and no one would let him.

Morhange glanced over at Pépinot and me and gave us an acknowledging nod along with half a smile, then he reached to his right, pulled a stuffed bear from beside him, and tossed it to him.

"Corbin threw it at me," he said quietly as his mother hugged him around the neck again and he coughed like there was no air in his lungs.

That was when I decide maybe I should take Pépinot out into the hall while Violette talked to her son, it wasn't until the door was closed that I realized there was a very good possibility that he would tell her that I was responsible for all this panic. She didn't even like me now, what would she think if she knew I gotten her son hospitalized.

"I want to come back to the city sometime," smiled Pépinot sitting down on the bench and kicking his feet, his bear clutched tightly under his arm.

"You've never been to one have you?" I asked sitting down beside him.

He shook his head.

"Don't worry, we'll come back."

He smiled as if putting all his trust on this one little promise.

A few minutes later Violette emerged with a look on his face that I couldn't pin to any one emotion.

"Here," I said quickly, giving Pépinot some money and pointing him in the direction of the cafeteria, "Go get something to eat."

"Really?" he grinned.

"Yup, go on," I whispered and he ran down the hall as she approached and sat down on the bench next to me.

"… Morhange told me what happened," she said finally.

"H-he did?" I asked.

"Yes… and I want to thank you."

"You do?"

"He told me you came and found him, after he ran away… he told me that you brought him back to the school and took care of him. Really, I can't thank you enough. He might be dead if you hadn't come to help," she sighed leaning over and kissing me on the cheek.

She then cleared her throat and looked around at the door of the cafeteria, which had just opened and Pépinot walked back towards us. His arms were full of bags of snacks and bars of candy, with his bear under his right arm.

"We'll give you two a ride back," Violette smiled as the boy tried to push a candy bar in to my hands and a bag of chips into hers.

"That sounds great, I'll just go say goodbye to Pierre," I said taking the candy and walking into the room.

Morhange looked up suddenly like he thought his mother was coming back to strangle him, only slightly relieved when he saw it was me, but at the same time he looked irritated.

"Don't ask me why," he said coldly.

"… Fine…" I said reaching into my jacket and throwing about forty paper cars onto the bed in front of him.

He picked them up and began to look through them with a questioned look on his face.

"They're cards from your classmates; they want you to get better, so I suggest you do as they tell you."

He smiled and nodded slightly as he continued to examine them, I mirrored the smile said goodbye and then left.


	5. Part two: Pépinot, Chapter five: Caught

Part two: Pépinot

Chapter five: Caught

Narrated by Clément Mathieu

"Thanks," Pépinot smiled as we got out of the car and I shut the door.

"It was my pleasure," nodded Violette as the car pulled forward, "And thank you again Mr. Mathieu."

"… Uh, yes you're-" but the car was gone before I could finish my statement.

The long road seemed to stretch on forever, it had no end, and this was the beginning. The warm sun beat down on the dusty pebbles of the lot and upon my face. The day that had caught Morhange in illness seemed like it was years ago, instead of just last night, so much had happened it must have been at least a week, but no, just a day if that. Of course he was still ill, and I was still guilty, but he had forgiven me, this made the day feel all the more like a new start.

"Mr. Mathieu?" asked Pépinot while opening up another bag of potato chips.

I nodded, my eyes still on the road.

"When can we go back to the city?"

"… Maybe next time we go visit Morhange."

"Can we go see him tomorrow?"

"I don't think so, but I promise we'll go soon."

He seemed to agree as we walked up to the doors of the school and unlatched it, and standing in the doorway was Rachin. Pépinot gasped said quickly, "I'll see you later Mr. Mathieu," and tried to squeeze between him and the doorway.

"I wouldn't be going if I were you," he said coldly grabbing him by the collar.

"Hey," I scowled and without thinking took Pépinot from his grasp, this swept his face in a thick layer of anger.

"Get out of my sight," he said to Pépinot snatching the food from his hands and pushing him into the hallways. "You," he said pointing at me, "Come to my office."

I swallowed hard and followed him into the building and all the way to his room. The walls were high and lined in filing cabinets and neatly stacked papers. There were some pictures on the walls, but not many, and the desk sitting in the center of the room was over flowing with files bursting with printed information.

"Sit," he ordered, I did as I was told like I had been reduced to a student again. "In case you have forgotten I will refresh your memory, students are not allowed to leave the school for any reason unless accompanied by their guardian. Now seeing that you are not that boy's guardian I see it fit for you to have a logical explanation for taking him with you."

"Pépinot doesn't have any guardians to start with," I began.

"Well then he defiantly doesn't have any need to leave."

"And I do believe it is not against any rule for me to leave."

"Not you, but where did you take him?"

"To see Morhange, he was worried, unlike you."

He scoffed, "Children get sick all the time here, you'll get used to it. They run away, you bring them back, they get sick, it never fails."

"He didn't run away, he went to see his mother."

"It's the same difference."

"I don't understand why this is such a big problem, I took Pépinot to see a friend."

"No, you broke the rules, and put that child in danger."

"You've never cared about their safety, everything you do is to make yourself look good," I sighed shaking my head.

"Just get out," he sneered.

"…."

"Get out!"

I gave a disapproving frown and walked out, Pépinot stood by the wall, looking at his feet.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mathieu," he mumbled.

"Pépinot, it's not your fault, you just wanted to see the city," I replied with the best smile I could muster up.

"I won't ask again," he sighed.

"Actually, I think maybe we're going back pretty soon."

He smiled, slightly confused, but he got what I was telling him.

The days leading through the week and a half were slow and uneventful. This made me realize how much Morhange contributed not only to the choir, but to everyone in the class.

His small gang of three or four boys, that followed him around from time to time, seemed lost and often wondered around looking for other's to latch onto. Most of which 'gangs' would turn them away, to the point where they group broke and went their separate ways in wait of Morhange's return.

It almost seemed like there was less trouble in the class, and that seat that Morhange would always sit in, the one by the window, was constantly being fought over. I'm not sure why everyone wanted it so badly, but they were always at each other's throats about getting it and keeping it long enough to stop worrying about being pushed onto the floor by someone bigger than themselves. Even when a professor was there, they would do the same, trying not to get caught of course, unless they wanted a seat in the corner. And after choir, it was another mad dash for the student who had been sitting there, to grab it before someone else did.

The choir continued as I always had, obviously we did not work on the solos without our soloist, so it gave me more time to work on harmonies, which were coming along nicely. I had no intent of ever showing the choir, but I enjoyed just being able to work with the students and getting to know them through the music I taught. For the most parts we practiced small exercises like songs I had thrown together, but at least they rhymed and helped their ranges.

Still, short a student, we pressed on.

About five days later Chabert pulled me aside in the hall before lunch and told me that Rachin would be out of town the coming Friday night, not returning until Sunday night. I wasn't sure what he was accomplishing for himself telling me this, but it worked well with my plans.

"Pépinot," I said that night as we walked back into the dormitories, "Do you have any money?"

He smiled a toothy grin and nodded vigorously, then ran over to his bed and reached between the mattresses.

"Here, sir," he said holding up three tiny coins between his fingers and then putting them in my hand.

"… Okay, thanks," I replied hiding a laugh behind a smile.

Then he looked around quickly and said with the side of his mouth, "What should I bring?"

"Maybe a pillow."

He nodded and walked over, took the pillow off his bed, and pushed it below the headboard.

I chuckled to myself and walked into my room. If I could make it through one more day of teaching I would finally be able to escape this torture of at least a day, just one day was all I was asking for.

A plan was forming in my head, I could see it now. We would take a train into the city, getting up early, maybe around three or four on Saturday, catching the earliest one they had. Spend a few hours walking around the streets, stay at a hotel, and get up the next morning around nine and take the eleven o'clock train back.

I lay down in my bed and watched the ceiling, hoping tomorrow would come and go quickly.

The following day was just that, it didn't hold anything worth remembering, except the fact that Pépinot couldn't sit still and carried his pillow from class to class with him, just incase something came up and we had to leave right away.

I told him that he could put his pillow back, and that it was getting dirty, but he refused and continued trying to stuff it under the desk.

At the end of the day Rachin announced to the staff that he would be leaving shortly, and there were to be no French or history classes tomorrow, of course usually when he left we never made the children do anything except go for their morning run. However with any luck we would be gone by then.


	6. Part two: Pépinot, Chapter six: Travel

Part two: Pépinot

Chapter six: Getting There

I got up around three, or maybe it was four, I couldn't see the clock in the dull silver moon light. It seemed like I had just fallen asleep after directing the choir practice of last night. A sat up in bed and stretched my hands above my head, then got up and dressed, tucking some extra money into my wallet. Walking out into the room, and letting my eyes adjust to the dark and motionless room, I saw Pépinot curled up under his blankets, without a pillow, and holding his stuffed bear tightly.

"Pépinot," I whispered shaking the small boy awake, "Pépinot, get up; we're going to miss the bus."

Pépinot murmured something quietly that sounded like, "J-just one more minute Dad."

"Come on," I said shaking him again. He rubbed his eyes and looked up like in a daze.

"Time to go?" he yawned getting out of bed and pulling pillow from underneath his headboard.

"Get dressed," I said quickly as I put on my jacket.

"Okay," he yawned again.

Five minutes later he was dressed, his hair combed, and his teeth brushed, all without waking a single child. Then he walked back to his bed, dragging the pillow lazily behind him, and tucked the bear between his sheets toward the bottom of the bed.

"He might get lost," he said returning to my side and looking around at the sleeping room.

"Ready?" I asked quietly, and he nodded.

It was a brisk morning air that filled the halls and the heart of Pépinot as we walked down the stairs and out into the foyer. The building was quiet, the walls still sleeping, and our footsteps beat quietly in the darkness. After some time my eyes adjusted, but it took awhile to get used to the quiet. Quiet was something that was not often found here, and when you did hear nothing, it was somewhat strange.

By the time we reached the end of the drive the sky was a dark grey color, and we had about fifteen minutes before the bus would get here. Pépinot yawned loudly and sat down on the pavement, then put the pillow behind him and lay his head down on it. I had no objections to this, so let him do what he wanted.

The bus arrived only slightly late and it seemed as we were the only ones riding until our third or fourth stop, but by then Pépinot had fallen asleep on his pillow that was resting on my shoulder. The road was bumpy and covered with potholes, but the tired child didn't seem to notice or mind. He slept until the bus was about half full, and then he stirred, rubbed his eyes, and rested while looking out the window.

I didn't expect to know anyone, so it was a good thing that none of the faces were recognizable, although one woman did stop as she walked down the isle to tell me how adorable she though my son was. I didn't understand what she was talking about at first, until Pépinot turned smiling to look at her and she giggled and waved, I understood, she thought that Pépinot was my son.

"Oh… thank you," I smiled politely patting Pépinot on the head. She looked at me and then to him, still grinning, and went to find a seat.

"I'm not your son," he whispered after she was out of earshot.

I nodded quickly and said, "Sometimes it's just better not to argue."

"… Does this mean I can be a son of anybody?" he asked with question in his eyes.

I opened my mouth to respond, but found that this could very well be true, as an orphan in a home that didn't look to adopt these children, until he became of age to leave or ran away.

However there was that one case where the student killed himself by jumping off the roof of the building, he was an orphan, but he was still dead. It didn't matter where he came from; the point was an innocent life had been taken by the horrible place. If it was in my power I'd try to help the students I had now, that included Pépinot, and Morhange.

The bus stopped in the city that Morhange was in, but he was too far away to go and visit and still catch the six o'clock train, so we simply got off into the hustle and bustle of the new place to Pépinot.

He watched the people like he had never seen such a mob of them before, and every step he took on the new pavement made him more and more overjoyed. I ended up holding his pillow after we walked into the station and Pépinot broke into a run, simply delighted by everything around him.

He dropped it behind him, and I picked it up in one hand and took his arm with the other to keep up. He weaved his way around people and past luggage carriages with me following, all the while me saying, "Slow down, we didn't even get the tickets yet. Pépinot wait!"

When I finally convinced him to stop I took him in the direction of the ticket counter panting. There was a line that stretched about fifteen people long, but it was moving quickly so Pépinot didn't have very much time to complain about when we were getting on the train. When we finally reached the booth I told the man I wanted to tickets into the city, that's when Pépinot yanked on my sleeve and when I bent down said, "Can I buy the tickets?"

I handed him the money and he put it up on the counter and slid it across to the man, who grinned at me and then gave them to him. I had a feeling he also though Pépinot was my son, but again I didn't argue.

Pépinot took one of the tickets from my hand and began to examine it as we walked toward the platform.

"What time will we get there?" he asked eagerly.

"It won't take too long," I replied taking his ticket to run it through the verifier.

"How long?"

"An hour and a half."

"Okay," he said sheepishly and followed me to one of the benches to wait for the train.

It showed up right on time, and Pépinot, far too eager to do anything that everything had to offer, bounded on ahead of me. He was soon caught by the conductor though, who made him wait for me to give the tickets, but after that jumped onto the train, his eyes wild with excitement and he went and sat down in a row of seats that wasn't occupied by anyone yet. So I sat along side him as he pressed his face against the window and watched the scenery that was not moving.

"Are we going to go soon?" he asked sitting back down and running his hand over his pillow case like it was a dog, or something with fur that needed grooming.

"Yes," I answered pulling yesterday's paper out from my small bag and opening it up to the first couple pages.

"…. When?"

"When all the other passengers have boarded."

After the seats all around us had filled up and the buzz of excited children and ready adults filled our ears the train pulled forward and we were surrounded with silence for a moment, and then squeals of enthusiastic kids, one of which being Pépinot.

Although the trill soon wore off, as his eyelids had begun to droop once more, along with the two children that sat across from him. In no time he was back asleep on my shoulder, the other two doing the same thing, only they were leaning on each other.

With the exception of making my arm very stiff I didn't mind this very much, although I would have preferred that Pépinot had a sibling to lean on. But I continued reading my paper. Who said what, who won what game, what was happening in our government, how everyone was adjusting to changes in everyday life, a story about a little girl who had written a very successful book, there were stories about, well just about everything.

An hour later Pépinot woke, just shortly after the others, in time for the third passing of the refreshment cart. Of course I got him something, which kept him happy for a while, before again beginning to ask me questions about things I couldn't remember or didn't have an answer for to start with. But at that point I was starting to get tired like he had and found myself catching a wink or two of sleep here and there, just to stay awake.

Pépinot seemed to be just fine though, he spent most of his time watching out the window, the green countryside must have looked like it was going so fast to a child, I know it had to me when I was the boy's age.

I was an only child, who spent far too much time with my mother for my own good, my father was around more than often, but I seemed to be closer to my mother. She's the one who first started taking me to orchestras, and sent me to music school. Maybe this is why I was so attached to her. My father was an engineer; I never felt he was particularly happy with the path I had taken, meaning my choice to pursue a career in music, but I couldn't say he didn't love me or my mother.

My father had wanted me to learn a good trade, as Morhange's mother had wanted for him. As in Morhange's case I had plead that music was a good trade, that was as far as he took it, although I could tell that he wanted me to also become an engineer, that's what he had wanted as soon as he had a son. But I just wasn't me, he was disappointed and as much as I wanted to help this, I couldn't. They were older anyway when they married, and when they had me, but this didn't mean they couldn't give me the love I needed and more, it only meant I didn't have as much time to spend with them as I would have liked to, they died when I was early forty.

"We here? We here?" Pépinot shouted as the tall buildings of the city became visible on the horizon and were soon moving past us, streets and cars, cafés and people, on the roads below.

"Yes," I replied looking over his head at the surroundings, the city wasn't as big as Paris, but it must have looked enormous to him.


	7. Part two: Pépinot, Chapter seven: Lunch

Part two: Pépinot

Chapter seven: Lunch

Pépinot picked the menu up and began flipping through the pages before he opened to the first page and actually began reading the first page of it, then the second, and the third. He closed it looking upward at the ceiling of the restaurant, and opened it again and shut it, then took a sip of his water and continued to look at the lights.

I cleared my throat to indicate I was about to talk, but he didn't look at me; his eyes were fixed on the ceiling above us.

"Have you decided what you want?" I asked making his neck snap his head in my direction.

"Yes…" he answered quickly, reaching for a piece of bread in a basket that was sitting on that table and going to take a bite from it.

"Pépinot, if you eat too many of those you won't have any room for lunch," I informed him, after the fact realizing it sounded far too fatherly like.

The boy shut his mouth and put the bread back into the basket, then looked down like he had disappointed me, or had gotten in trouble. I didn't want him to feel badly, but I also didn't want him ruining his appetite, alright now I was being fatherly, I needed to stop.

"So how've classes been going?" I asked, but I was doing it again.

He shrugged, "Okay, I don't get anything right though…. I don't think Mr. Rachin likes me very much."

This was true, but not because of Pépinot, he simply disliked all the students, well all that either misbehaved or were just not good in school, which in retrospect were all of them.

"That's alright, don't worry," I said cheerfully, "He's not the easiest to get along with, I think he dislikes me too."

A flicker of a smile creased Pépinot's mouth when I said this, so now with a bit more enthusiasm he picked up his silverware and pushed the crumbs around on his plate. He was a slight bit happier, but something was still wrong, he didn't seem… well to be enjoying himself.

"What's wrong, Pépinot?" I asked leaning forward.

He didn't answer at first, just continued staring at something on the ceiling that wasn't there and twiddling his fingers.

"Do you not like it here?"

Again he didn't respond.

"Pépinot?"

"… It's Saturday," he said, the words dribbling off his tongue like it was something he was very used to saying.

Saturday was something that was familiar to him however, it was the day that he thought his father would come and pick him up, but both his parents were dead. I wasn't sure why Chabert had told him this lie, but now they couldn't get him to stop believing it. They had told him many times that his father, nor anyone, would be coming, but he wasn't fazed by it. Every Saturday, rain or shine, freezing or blistering, he would go out to the gate, stand on the right side with his face looking through the bars onto the road, and he would wait. Sometimes he would sneak out when I wasn't even Saturday to wait there until Saturday. On Saturdays I rarely saw him come inside to eat, I don't think he ate at all on those days though. I wondered an awful lot if he knew that no one was coming, if he was trying to fool himself into believing that.

"What if he comes and I'm not there?" Pépinot asked longingly.

"Don't worry," I said while trying to think of something I could say that would not only make sense, but also make the boy feel better, "He won't come unless he knows you'll be there…."

Pépinot shrugged slowly and then looked at me, "… Will he come?"

My brain was tying knots in my tongue, "… Do you think he'll come?"

He hesitated and then shook his head slightly, "But they told me he'd come, and then, they told me he wouldn't…. Is he coming?"

"Pépinot, some of the people there aren't very nice, and you need to understand that."

He nodded, but continued staring up.

"And even if he doesn't come, one day you'll be in a place where someone loves you very, very much. I don't know how soon that will be, but I will try and help."

He didn't understand what I was telling him, but one day he would.

"So what do you want for lunch?" I asked to change the subject; I picked up the menu myself and began flipping through the pages just to make my question look convincing.

"A sandwich," he said picking up his menu and doing the same as me.

"What kind?" I said just to get him to talk.

"Cheese… maybe ham."

"What kind of bread?"

"The regular kind."

I wasn't sure what to say next, I should have brought him something to do, and again I felt like even that thought was something a parent might think while at a restaurant with their own children.

For a brief moment I heard a sudden voice inside my head telling me that I should have married, and I should have had children. But I had focused too much on my career that had never happened. I wondered, for what? I was employed as a prefect, at a school for reforming misbehaved children, for taking in those who didn't have a home, and keeping innocent kids from seeing their parents, I was unmarried, I was unhappy, and I was disliked.

Well, dislike by all but one, and that was the boy I was sitting with right now. Maybe I was liked by the others at the school, but for the most part, they would like me because I did not treat them the way they had been treated all their lives, they were treated with the slightest trace of love by me, which meant the world to them.

After another moment passed a waitress came to take our drink orders, Pépinot ordering chocolate milk and a ham and cheese sandwich, I got a glass of water and a salad with chicken on it. Pépinot wasn't one to talk excessively, but it seemed he talked more than just a little. It was hard to listen to all of it since he was talking so fast, it was hard to even hear a little of it. Although he had been upset a few seconds ago, apparently it didn't take long to get him back on the right track.

"Mr. Mathieu, what are we going to do after this?" he asked looking from his plate, completely cleaned, and then to my salad.

"We're going to walk around for a while, but after that we'll go to the hotel," I said finishing the rest of my food.

"Where are we staying?"

"Just down the street, they serve dinner and breakfast, so we can go there tonight when you get hungry."

He nodded and looked at me as if trying to say that he was more than ready to get a move on, and I didn't doubt it.


	8. Part two: Pépinot, Chapter eight: Museum

Part two: Pépinot

Chapter eight: Museum

I yawned and ran my hand down my face before sitting down into a chair on the far side of the hotel room. I could hear Pépinot running the water in the bathroom and the sound itself was enough to put me to sleep.

It had been a long an exhausting day, from the ride in on the train right down to dinner in the hotel's large ballroom. Pépinot of course had not stopped, not even for a second, the boarders of his world expanding at ever second I couldn't imagine how he could.

I closed my eyes for a moment to stare at the insides of my eyelids and found them not as appealing as I would have liked them to be. Tired, but not enough to go to sleep.

Then the door clicked open and Pépinot walked out while brushing his teeth, talking about something, but I really couldn't understand him, only catching small words that had the fortune to make it out of his rambling mouth without being stopped by the object he continued to brush his molars with.

I nodded and stretched, but after a while found myself pointing to his bed and muttering for his to go rinse his mouth and go to sleep, before standing up and walking into my own room to get changed and go to bed, but I found it difficult because the boy usually needed to sleep with a light on.

I came in a few minutes later to say good night, but he had already fallen asleep with his head beneath the pillow he had dragged everywhere with him, except to the museum. I had made him leave it at the hotel when we first checked in and left our bags in our room. It wasn't as much of a fight as I thought it would have been, he usually was very… emotionally attached to his things when he wasn't sure what was coming next.

So after he had left the dirty pillow in the room we left, walking through the streets, he unsure of where we were going; I had been to this city many times, so knew my way around pretty well, maybe straying from the path once or twice, but never severe enough to ask for directions.

We made it to the museum in a short time and once we were there did have an enjoyable time.

"What's here?" Pépinot asked as we entered the large hall that stretched far above our heads and lead to an ever larger set of stairs lined with several paintings and small descriptions hung bellow them.

"Lots of things," I said taking a step into the hall with him flowing, "Paintings, artifacts, writings."

Pépinot looked slightly disappointed, this was until we entered the first room and his eyes light up, as his jaw dropped into an overjoyed smile. He looked astounded at the site before us, it was a skeleton of a creature he had never seen before, in fact I think the only skeleton he had ever seen was the one in the classroom that was constantly being harassed by the other students, but this one wasn't of a person, it was that of a prehistoric creature standing high above us.

"Is that a dinosaur?" he muttered speechlessly.

I nodded and smiled as he took a step inward then paused and ran to it.

"Don't touch it," I warned, but he didn't attempt it, he simply stood at its base without removing his eyes from the enormous bone structure.

"Okay," Pépinot replied with a small nod.

He sat on the bench near the wall that faced the dinosaur for quite sometime, actually I told him that we needed to move on.

"I… alright," he said solemnly getting up and following me into the art room.

Most of the pieces were abstract and as we entered I could see a confused look come over Pépinot's face.

"What's this?" he asked sitting down in front of a piece that took up an entire wall and simply staring at it, he seemed to do that a lot.

"Art," I replied looking at its description and then standing next to him.

He cocked his head and looked harder at it, but apparently saw nothing, "What are you supposed to see?"

I shrugged, "Whatever you want… try feeling instead of thinking."

Pépinot stopped squinting and opened his eyes to full extent, then back to normal and large again.

"I see a storm," he said finally.

"Really?" I said without giving it much thought.

"Yes… and there are some people down at the bottom, they're running, from something… I don't know what though."

I stopped, "Who are they?"

"Kids, but they'll be okay, because over there, there's a big place for them to sleep," he sighed pointing to the bottom right corner where it was darker than the others.

"Is it a good place?"

"No, but they'll get out eventually," he then looked around to another painting and walked over to it.

I tried to understand what he was talking about for the longest time, maybe he was talking about his past, or his future, or it could have just been random, but it seemed like he had connected to it.

From there we continued into the artifacts rooms, containing everything from fine jewels to mummies. Pépinot didn't seem all too thrilled as we walked around, but certain thing would catch his eye from time to time, like a very old wooden mask from Africa, a piece of broken pottery from ancient Greece, and a sarcophagus from ancient Egypt. These were mostly the only pieces that he found interesting, but I supposed you needed to know the background of.

But at that time it was getting late, and the museum would be closing soon, so we had to go, but that was fine, by the time we got back to the hotel they had already started to serve dinner, so any later and we would have missed it.

Pépinot didn't eat much, just a cup of soup and a slice of bread, but he didn't seem very hungry anyway, so I didn't force him.

And after that we came back to the room. It was a full day, at least in his eyes, and that was the important part.

I turned the over head light off after standing and smiling at him for a moment and walked into my room, that's when I began to wonder about where he would go from here, back to the school, and then where, nowhere good, that was for sure. That place broke children, just like it had done to Morhange, and it would do the same to him.

I tried to push the thoughts from my head as if got into bed, the next morning we took the early train back to the school after breakfast, but Rachin was still not back yet by the time we arrived, in fact no one seemed to have realized that we had left, except for the kids, but Pépinot had promised not to say a word, and he did just that.

I was back before I knew it, it didn't feel good to be back, it didn't feel like it was home, but it was, it had to be, at least for now, just for now. But for them it would be always, forever they would reside in these lonely halls and empty rooms, there had to be something I could do, but sadly, there was nothing, just nothing.


	9. Part three: Home

Part three: Home

Chapter nine: Listen

Narrated by Clément Mathieu

I had just sat down at my desk to finish when the students, at their seats working on busywork just to keep them quiet, all sat up and looked around to the side of the classroom with windows. It was visiting day, and after this study they would be able to see parents, relatives, or friends.

I liked this day because most of the children were excited, but at the same time it made them very loud and almost intolerable. Some of the students, such as Pépinot, didn't have anyone to visit with though, which made them irritable and aggravated, maybe they were jealous, but it might have felt to them as if they were missing out on something.

When Morhange had been here, he had been gone for a little more than a month now, he never liked visiting day, for whatever reason it mad him sad. His mother made him sad; I did know that, it was because of what she had done to him. I wasn't sure of everything, but Violette had told me her story, which brought about her son's.

She was a single mother whose husband had died when Morhange was only five years old. She didn't have enough money in one job to feed him, so took night jobs, but that left him alone more than often. She said he did things like running away and stealing because he was just being an idiot, but I thought it was more than just that, he was trying to get attention, he felt unwanted, and it didn't help when he was taken from her to live here.

I knew that he loved her very much, but he didn't trust her, he didn't want to get hurt. He also didn't trust her with anyone else besides himself, he didn't want a new father, he didn't even want her, and so as long as she was his mother he would just keep her away from every other man, me included.

When he had seen me with her, the only time he had ever seen her with me, he dropped an ink bomb on my head. It wasn't a terrible thing, I could picture him doing something worse, but of course I punished him for it, by taking his solo from him.

He wasn't happy, but he got over it, I brought it back up at the small concert we preformed, by giving it back to him. That's what made him trust me more than he ever had. Truthfully I think he thought that this was the best thing anyone had ever done for him, nothing taken from him had ever been given back.

I took a deep breath and looked back down at my papers as the bells rang and all the students who were expecting visitors ran from the room as fast as they possibly could, Pépinot at the end of a long line of depressed looking children. He stopped and looked at me as if to ask, "Why am I here?" then continued out.

I wanted him to be happy, like he was when we were in the city, but the only thing that would keep him happy would be a home, but this was his home, sad but true.

I sighed and walked out into the hallway where I noticed a flood of people coming in the front gates, most young and tired looking, a few older, but still just as tired. But there was one person among the crowd I recognized, it was Violette, but why was she here? Morhange wasn't, she knew that, she knew that all too well. Then I noticed someone walking beside her, someone who looked happier than I had ever seen him before, even though he was coming back. But it wasn't a look of joy, it was a look of sorrow to be returning, he was smiling not because of what he was coming back to, instead, who he was coming back to, he was returning to a place where he could sing, a place that was his, the only place he could be his full self.

He was back, Morhange was back, my soloist, their friend, the school's prisoner was back.

It didn't occur to me to go and see him until after he had already walked inside and out of view. My feet gave a lurch and I took a step in the direction of the stairs, but the traffic leading into the entrance hall was too thick to squeeze through so by the time I reached the bottom of the stairs I was just in time to see Morhange's unhappy face return as he was pulled into the headmaster's office by his mother.

"Mr. Mathieu?" Pépinot asked tugging on my sleeve.

"Huh? Y-yes Pépinot?" I stammered looking down at him.

"I just saw the singing boy, he came back, went right in there," he said pointing to the headmaster's office.

"Yes, he came back I saw him."

"Will he be in choir again?"

"Yes of course."

"Can I still be the assistant?"

"What would change that?"

He shrugged and left for the cafeteria with all the others who weren't expecting any visitors, and never would be.

"P-Pépinot…" I called.

He turned while looking at his feet.

"Do you want to have lunch with me…? I'm having lunch with the parents… we could sit with Morhange."

"Really?" he smiled his face lighting up.

I returned his smile and waited by the door for Morhange and his mother to emerge. I could hear nothing from inside the room, my guess was that Rachin was being told that his student was returning, and he pretending to care, as known it was not the case.

After sometime they immerged, Morhange looking up at his mother hopefully, but she was not meeting his eyes. I wondered why she wasn't looking at her son while he was so intently staring at her, but soon found out. She looked around herself, making sure not to look at Morhange and then her eye caught on me; she smiled and pushed Morhange in my direction just slightly. He looked up at her with an almost confused and innocent look on his face.

"Go on," Violette said quickly.

He looked away from her and at Pépinot and I, we smiled, but it didn't seem to break through his hurt looking face.

"… Umm… Violette we were just going to have something to eat, did you want to join us?" I asked while Morhange looked at his feet.

"I… actually have to be somewhere," she said hurriedly glancing at her watch, and then back at me.

I could only hear part of Morhange's muffled voice whisper to Pépinot, "She's got a date," then he looked back at his mother with the same hard and cold face that I recognized.

"I-I…" she stammered looking at him like she was the worst mother in the world, then glanced around nervously and said, "Well… I could maybe stay for a few minutes."

Morhange gave a slight lurch like he wanted to run forward to hug her, but he did nothing, except try and keep a tiny smile off his face.

"Come on," she said putting a hand on his back and leading him into the visiting room where many tables were set up, most already set with food on them and sitting host to families and their sons.

Violette walked to two small tables that stood near the back of the room, by the window. She sat down at one and then pointed at the other for Morhange, he didn't argue, or seem to care, he just sat down next to Pépinot who was eagerly looking around for some sort of meal he wouldn't normally get.

I sat down next to Violette, who was watching her son with great intensity as if he was going to try and do something illegal.

After sometime of just waiting and watching our meals become cold in front of us, she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She then stared down at her meal and said quietly, "I'm a terrible mother aren't I?"

"No, of course not," I said quickly, "Why would you say that?"

"Pierre hates me, we both know it."

It was true Morhange wasn't fond of his mother, but he loved her just the same, "No, he doesn't, he just feels ignored sometimes is all."

She looked up at me like she was shocked I knew this, "Did he tell you that?"

I shook my head, "He doesn't need to."

"What do you mean? He never talks to me; I never get to hear about him."

"He's been trained not to."

"…?"

"Actions speak louder than words, can't you see that he's desperately calling for you… for anyone. He's not being punished here for breaking the rules, he's being punished for trying to be heard," I sighed glancing at Morhange who was eating his meal while eyeing Pépinot in a way almost to make sure he didn't hurt himself by eating to fast and would occasionally move the boy's bowl away so he didn't chock himself.

Violette looked over her shoulder to see what her son was doing, but he immediately stopped helping Pépinot and made it look like he was trying to carve something into the wood instead.

"Stop that," she scowled, this was exactly what Morhange wanted.

"You just did it," I said as she directed her attention back on me.

"Did what?"

"He wanted you to yell at him."

"What? Why?" she asked in a confused tone.

"Because that's the only way he gets your attention. You didn't see him when he was helping Pépinot, but you picked him right off the minute he tried to do something bad. So if the only way he can get your attention is to misbehave, he'll do it. But remember attention is his book could very well be considered love."

Violette looked astonished that I knew more about her son than she did.

I nodded for her to subtly turn to watch what Morhange was doing now, moving one of Pépinot's elbows off the table and changing his hands grip so he wasn't shoveling his food.

"…." she sighed looking back at me.

"He only doing what he knows will get you to notice him, maybe if you noticed him for the good things more often than the bad he'd misbehave less," I said sipping some of my coffee and looking at Pépinot.

"How should I do that?" she asked completely serious.

I grinned, "Just smile at him, he's a smart boy, he'll get it."

I cleared my throat just slightly as to get Morhange's attention, he looked up from the small boy and at me, but I looked away from him before our eyes could meet, instead his eyes met with those of his mother's.

Morhange, didn't seem to believe what he saw, he blinked hard and almost hesitantly smiled back and looked at his feet while blushing slightly.

Violette turned to me again, "How did you know to do that?"

"No one every wants to be told they've done something wrong, so focus on what he does right."

She nodded and looked back at her son who was eating his own meal, seeing as Pépinot had finished his and was now playing with a fork that Morhange swiped from him the moment it got too close to his eye. Pépinot frowned sourly and picked up his spoon which he then proceeded to try and balance on his nose.

A half hour later Violette glanced at her watch again and said, "I really should go, but this has been great, really we should do it again sometime."

"Of course," I nodded as she approached her son and took a small paper box from her bag and put it in front of him.

He looked down at it, then grinned and stood up and hugged his mother. She seemed almost caught off guard by this, but hugged him back and said goodbye, then before leaving looked at me and said, "First day of summer's tomorrow, I hope it brings you all good fortune."

"Really, tomorrow's summer?" Pépinot asked hopefully.

"Yes, maybe we can do something fun outside with everyone, if we get lucky."

"Don't you see Morhange?" I smiled after the door had closed behind her.

He nodded, "Yeah… I do… I do now."


End file.
